far from an ideal world.
But there was one even the Inquisitors feared. He held no rank — the Inquisitors did not seem to have ranks as such — but he was their leader, the one they all bowed to in acceptance. He had both age and experience, and a fanatical will. Something shone in his eyes…. not madness, not even zeal, but…. necessity.
Morden supposed he could have sent a courier or a servant to deliver this message, but he was the representative of the Vorlons. He was the liaison of the Inquisitors. He would do it himself.
He stopped at the door, the furthest, bottom-most one, naturally. Also the darkest, but strangely, the cleanest. There were no guards. What would be the point? Besides, there could have been Shadow agents amongst the guards anyway. Where better for them to hide?
He knocked at the door, firmly. He would not show this one his fear. There came a crisp, precisely accented, 'Enter!' He opened the door and walked in.
'Mr. Morden,' Sebastian said, not turning. 'What manner of business brings you here?'
The Soul Hunter was hanging suspended by his wrists from a beam at the centre of the room. His eyes were closed, but the strange jewel in his forehead was glowing dully. Morden thought he saw his own reflection within it. Sebastian was not reflected there, obviously.
'We have found his ship,' Morden replied. 'It has not been boarded, as you ordered, and there are six guards on permanent duty. We have a further twenty-four in the surrounding area and access roads.'
'Ah,' Sebastian said. 'Excellent. Double the number of guards. I will go and visit this ship shortly, but it must be done carefully. If the ship contains what I expect to find there, then we must be absolutely meticulous. Do you not agree?'
'Thoroughness is always important,' Morden replied.
'Well said. I have need of a few more hours here, and then will visit this ship. Ensure no one, and I sincerely mean no one, enters the vessel. Anyone but myself who tries is to be executed instantly. Do you understand?'
'Perfectly.'
'Good. Then go.'
Morden bowed, and turned to leave. It took an awesome amount of willpower to resist the urge to sprint out of the room. In one last gesture of defiance he looked up at the Soul Hunter again. He had opened his eyes now, and there was a clear indication of fear there.
Shaking slightly, Morden left. No sounds came from that room. Not one.
Sometimes G'Kar felt he could just reach out his hand and touch the far side of the galaxy. He felt he could grasp stars in his hand and shut out suns with a thought. He could walk through time itself. There was no secret in creation that was not known to him, no mystery he could not unravel.
Waking came slowly, as always. This world and the next, the one of dream and memory, were growing nearer and nearer with every passing day. He could still hear the hum of the Great Machine in his mind, still regretted the passing of the power he had learned to wield so well.
He had always mistrusted those with power. The Centauri had had power over him and his people, and they had misused it. The Kha'Ri had power, and they used it to play their little games of intrigue and deception.
That, he supposed, was why he had sought power himself. His words had fired the hearts of his people. His speeches had spread thought and wonder wherever they were heard. He could have toppled continents with a word.
Who better to wield power than one who did not want it?
But now…. now he wanted it again. He dreamed of the Machine. He imagined he was there again, and all the years in between had been nothing but an illusion, a dream.
The war was over. The Shadows had gone. What place in this new galaxy for such as him? A leader of soldiers with no enemy to fight. A prophet of doom with no prophecies to utter.
He was not needed, and he knew it. He was not wanted. He was…. a difficulty, a problem.
An obstacle.
He brought his mind back to the discussion at hand. He was still a member of the Alliance Council after all. The number of meetings he attended was few these days, but this was important, and he had made an effort to be here.
Today they would finally choose a Commanding Officer for Babylon 5.
There had been a number of officers acting in that position during its construction and the early weeks. Some had acted with honour and dignity, others…. less so. But there was need for a permanent CO now, and there were a great many candidates. Each name was raised, and each name dismissed for one reason or another.
He ran the names through in his mind. Major Krantz, human, a capable enough officer, if uninspiring, but his ties to Bester still placed him under suspicion, even with Bester missing for all these years. G'Kar remembered his betrayal all too well.
Captain Tikopai, another human. She was competent and painstaking. She did not want the position, however. An underlying sense of cynicism and a daughter on Proxima 3 ensured that.
Carn Mollari, Centauri Lord-General. A fine leader, much admired by his soldiers, and of course highly connected in the byzantine corridors of the Centauri Government. But his race automatically excluded him from the position. The Kha'Ri would not stand for any Centauri in such a position, and nor would many of the other races.
Daro and Taan Churok and the other Drazi would all refuse the position, even in the unlikely event of them being offered it. G'Kar had heard tales of what was happening in the Drazi worlds since the Conflict. Any Drazi who took such a position within the Alliance would be an outcast at home.
The Kha'Ri, surprisingly enough, had not put forward any candidates. The statement given by G'Kael stated they did not feel they had any officers with appropriate experience. G'Kar, who could name at least three, was puzzled, but this was merely one more puzzle. The Kha'Ri had learned too much from the Centauri. Where once he would have understood their little games, and even controlled them to a certain extent, now he was reduced to merely standing by and watching.
Captain Corwin's name came up more than once. He was known to be the personal choice of General Sheridan, but he was not here. In fact no one knew where he was. He had not been seen in over a year. Some thought he was dead.
There were no Minbari candidates. The religious caste was too weak, the worker caste did not desire the role and the warrior caste was too much mistrusted. The spectres of the civil war and of Sinoval's disappearance hung heavy over them all. The Minbari had not even formally appointed an Ambassador here yet. They had always been a private people, and for all the Grey Council's words of opening up their worlds, they were still apart from the other races.
The Vorlons, naturally, said nothing, did nothing, and did not seem to care anyway.
The other races put forward candidates. Llort, Abbai, Vree, Hyach, but none of them had a representative with the appropriate experience, or desire, or the support necessary. This was a highly political appointment, very high-profile. In many ways this person would be the public face of the Alliance.
Delenn was too busy of course, as was Sheridan, as was every other member of this body, even G'Kar himself.
There was one name left, and after countless hours of argument it always came back to him. His lobby was powerful, and his Ambassador carried a great deal of weight. His experience during the Shadow War spoke volumes, and his loyalty was beyond doubt. He had governed Babylon 5 for a few months during the construction and had performed flawlessly.
It was in many ways an obvious choice, if he wanted the post. Which was perhaps why it had taken so long for a final decision to be made.
'Do you want this position?' Delenn asked him finally. There had been many hours of debate, but in the end the Alliance Council was agreed.
'No,' Captain Kulomani replied. 'I do not, but if there is no one else, if this is how I may best serve the Alliance, if this…. if this is my fate….
'Then so be it. Do you all wish me to command Babylon Five?
'Then very well. I will be your Commander. I will serve as best as I can.'
'That is all we ask,' Delenn said, smiling. 'That is all we ask.'
